


Take Me Home Tonight!

by transgaylord



Category: Psychopath Diary (TV)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, CW hatecrime???, CW unsafe ftm chest binding, FTM chest binding, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Narcissism, POV Seo In Woo, Serial Killers, Slow Burn, Surgery, Trans Male Character, Trans Seo In Woo, Trans Yook Dong Sik
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22287157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transgaylord/pseuds/transgaylord
Summary: Once he's locked onto a target, he must pursue it. And he will stop at nothing until it comes into his possession- that is, unless his attention is diverted toward some other target.In that case, he will stop on a dime and pivot, tires screeching, engine roaring- and there is nothing in the world that can stop Seo In-woo from pursuing this new target. That is, unless...
Relationships: Yook Dong Sik/Seo In Woo
Comments: 16
Kudos: 26





	1. [CONTROL]

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Eddie Money's "Take Me Home Tonight." https://youtu.be/QIpkkM0mkLg
> 
> The chapters all have funky music names too, for fun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspo: Control by Janet Jackson https://youtu.be/FMuoowyCkUU

For Seo In-woo, evenings after work were usually a time to be at peace, alone with his own thoughts. But tonight, his thoughts would not leave him alone, fluttering in circles around the shame of last night's failure. He had never lost track of his prey before. Not only the prey, but also the diary, and his precious, bloody collection along with it..... He was slipping.

And when he rides home alone in the back seat of some luxurious chauffeured vehicle, he usually does not slouch. Usually, he sits in a posture that is relaxed but still carefully posed and dignified. He never, ever calls for a limo with mirrored or tinted windows- it makes him feel caged, controlled. Therefore he must keep up appearances- for the sake of the chauffeur, and for anyone on the streets of Seoul who might admire the regal lines of his body through the side window.

But tonight he found himself hunched over, propped up on his elbow and staring listlessly out the window as the city lights rolled by. It took all of his willpower not to chew on the tip of his finger, a nervous habit- it's undignified, and if the car ever hit a bump or came to a sudden stop, there would be _hell_ to pay.

There would be hell to pay, too, if the discreet skin-tone athletic tape on his chest came loose. He could feel it wrinkling, bending, and sticking to itself in places- obviously due to his lousy posture. After a long day of careful comportment and discreet adjustment, he was itching, unraveling, squirming in his bindings like a rabbit on a snare. He couldn't wait to get home and step into a hot shower. To feel the adhesive grow weaker and weaker until the tape could be peeled off without much effort. He couldn't wait to drop the sticky rags onto the tile floor, wash away the foul residue of the work day, and step out of the shower fully human.

The damn tape... He never went outdoors without it, unless he was going incognito. Wearing an oversized black hoodie and un-gelled hair over his eyes, on the days he went to the full-service salon; or wearing an oversized black raincoat with the hood concealing his face, on the nights when he committed murder. Or failed to commit murder, as it was, now...

But he would never get the surgery. Never. Seo In-woo would rather die than be numbed and sedated, laid out on a table beneath some tinkerer's scalpel. And besides, his body already looks so fetching in the mirror.

Suddenly, by accident, he found himself eye-to-eye with some useless dolt (no one he'd ever seen before) driving a dented, ugly, greyish sedan. From the looks of it, the sad little car was quite a few years out of date; old enough to be dreadfully obsolete, but not old enough to be a charming vintage. He must have been scowling, because the woman's eyes widened even further. Then the light turned green, and the other lane of traffic started to roll again- but still that creature stared back at him, unmoving. Pathetic.

Seo In-woo felt as if he was observing some disgusting crawling animal in a double-walled zoo. It's such a frustration when some piece of vermin is barely a meter away from him, but two car windows (and civil law, of course) prevent him from lunging over to throttle her. See how much further those eyes could widen, with In-woo's hands around her throat.

But there was a more pressing matter at hand: To get home, to wind down and take a hot and luxurious _fucking_ shower; but first, to see if he can silently influence this doe-eyed fool to stop holding up traffic. So he held eye contact, and stretched his mouth into a friendlier shape. But the smile must not have reached his eyes, because the woman seemed to react in terror. Suddenly, she stepped on the gas, and the car peeled away like a rocket.

Such a rate of acceleration... Unexpected. Quite impressive, actually. But what was the brand and model of the car...? In-woo had been so busy glowering at that insect in the driver's seat, he didn't notice the symbol of the manufacturer, and he certainly didn't get a chance to memorize the license plate.

"Follow that car."

"But I don't ... Sir..." The chauffeur pressed on the gas, and the car started moving, but they accelerated so absurdly slowly it made In-woo want to pound on the bulletproof window with his fist. His target was getting further and further and further away. He wanted to see, to know... but he couldn't even guess the country of manufacture. Was it Korean? Japanese? American? European? ...Certainly not European. He would have recognized the model, from the many hours of his childhood spent poking through his father's foreign automobile catalogues. Time that would have been better spent reading a medical textbook, or the works of Yulgok, or Hobbes, or Darwin...

"...Is this work-related?" The chauffeur had the absolute gall to ask.

"No." Seo In-woo put on his seat belt. "Now drive."


	2. [ROADGAME]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspo: Roadgame by Kavinsky https://youtu.be/N8ZAx_OvKpM
> 
> (edited- I originally had it as Drive by The Cars, but nah. This chapter needs an action song.)

In-woo's skin prickled with annoyance. But he wasn't annoyed at the driver: this loyal subordinate had followed his orders without further questioning, and was pretty skilled at driving. Their limo was keeping up a pretty good pace in pursuit of his target, even accelerating through the yellow stoplight without first being asked. (In-woo made a mental note to praise the driver verbally after they achieve their objective.)

In-woo was feeling annoyed at nobody in particular - simply annoyed at the laws of probability and all the other forces of nature, because the chase after this mysterious car seemed to be leading him right back to the Daehan Securities office building. A coincidence, unplanned for. It would take much longer for In-woo to get home and relax after he's snapped a picture of the target's license plate. But he couldn't fault the mystery woman for stepping on the gas when she felt threatened. A hunter cannot fault his prey for fleeing.

Soon enough, In-woo had the plate in his phone camera's sights. Leaning from the passenger's seat toward the center of the vehicle, he could aim straight through the windshield, and only needed to zoom in so he could read the numbers.

But suddenly, In-woo's chauffeur slammed the brakes. In-woo was thankful for his seat belt, even while it pressed against his throat and made him gag. After that, he was thrown backward at an unfortunate angle- his own fault, from leaning to look through the windshield. His head slammed against the seat behind him. He tasted blood. But at least he hadn't stuck his head out of the side window, like a dog- it's undignified, and the sudden stop could have broken his neck.

In-woo coughed, and his head lolled to the side. But his eyes sharpened when he caught sight of it- his target. That ugly silvery car, slowly rolling into a concrete tunnel. He could not see the license plate. 

"Sir... Sir! Are you hurt? ...Sir!"

It was the chauffeur's voice. In-woo ignored it, instead staring at the lit-up sign near the mouth of the tunnel. "Daehan Securities."

"...Mr. Seo In-woo, sir!"

"I'm fine," In-woo growled, unclipping the seat belt and throwing it off of his body. He opened the door, and shakily began to exit the vehicle. He spoke loud enough for the chauffeur to hear: "That's all. You've done a great job. Go home now."

In-woo slammed the door and stepped onto the curb. The chauffeur seemed to hesitate, but soon the shiny black limo started rolling, turned a corner, and was out of sight.

In-woo walked slowly, like a half-drunk man trying to prove that he can still walk in a straight line. One hand reached the glowing white sign and leaned on it for support. His head throbbed, and swore under his breath. This place... was his own fucking parking lot. The shitty, dirty, ugly employee's entrance to the Daehan company parking lot. Seo In-woo had never been to this place, but now he could recognize this area from the architectural drawings, from back when the office complex was still under construction.

He was startled by his phone buzzing in his other hand. Somehow, he had kept an iron grip on it throughout the entire fiasco. He answered it.

"Mr. Seo!!"

It was a woman's voice, panicked, and far too casual with his name.

After a moment, she corrected herself. "Director Seo. Please help me. I am an employee of Daehan Securities and I think there's a strange man following me. I don't work in your department but a friend gave me your number a while ago and she says you're a good man. A kind man. I drove back to work as fast as I could and I'm hiding in the building. Director Seo, please help me-"

She kept talking, but In-woo stopped listening. Damn it all to hell. What are the fucking odds that something like this could happen? 

He interrupted her. "Ma'am, it seems you have the wrong number. I'm not Mr. Seo, and I have no idea what you're talking about. You should call the police."

He cringed at his own words. No! Not the fucking cops... If the police show up, In-woo would need to hide as well.

"Godspeed," he said awkwardly, and swiped to end the call. Then he threw his phone onto the ground as hard as he could. He wanted to scream. But the sound of his phone screen cracking gave him some satisfaction, and if he looked on the bright side, there might be a moment for him to creep into the parking lot and find the mystery car. Snap a picture of the license plate, and then photograph it from every possible angle. Then he could study them more closely at home, do a bit of research and identify the model- like identifying an unknown feather or animal bone.

But wait. His phone. 

He looked down at the scattered pieces of hardware, broken beyond repair. But before he could scream with rage and frustration, a human figure emerged from the dark, walking out of the tunnel. In an instant he recognized the fluffy head of hair and the vacant, dopey expression. Incredulous, Seo In-woo shouted the young man's name.

"Yook Dong-sik??!"


	3. [HUMAN]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter inspo: Human by The Human League https://youtu.be/s1ysoohV_zA

Yook Dong-sik stood stiffly at the mouth of the tunnel, frozen as if he had just been caught doing something naughty.

"Uh, hey! I know you... Pushy sales guy, from the roof. I don't know your name, though."

Seo In-woo was stunned silent. The casual language, the _disrespect_. Who does this impudent worm think he is...? In-woo began to wonder if this 'pushy sales guy' should have _pushed_ him off the roof when he had the chance.

Yook Dong-sik shifted his weight onto one leg, and stood comfortably with a tilt to his hips while he hefted his heavy-looking briefcase over the back of his shoulder. He crinkled his brow in concern, looking at the smashed remains of In-woo's phone all over the pavement. "Are you okay? Did you get mugged?"

"No! I..." In-woo trailed off when he realized that the binding tape beneath his shirt, waistcoat, and blazer was dangerously loose. He crossed his arms over his chest, and hunched forward to make sure that the shape was hidden. And he felt confused, having not expected the man who recently kidnapped, tied up, and psychologically tortured In-woo's brother to care about another human's well-being. 

Yook Dong-sik seemed to interpret this movement as a defensive gesture, and his expression grew soft and sympathetic. But his words were remarkably insensitive:

"...Did you get _hatecrime'd?_ "

In-woo blinked quickly, still hugging himself tightly. "Wh- ...why would I get hatecrime'd?" In-woo asked, then cursed himself silently for parroting this idiot's made-up verb. _This idiot who doesn't even know how to torture a man properly._

Dong-sik shrugged. "I dunno, because you're gay, or something."

In-woo's eyebrows shot upward, and he stared at Dong-sik with a befuddled, vulnerable expression. 

Dong-sik threw one hand up in a truce. "Hey now! I said OR SOMETHING, didn't I?"

Then he walked up to In-woo, squinted, and seemed to inspect him all over. In-woo crossed his arms more tightly over his chest.

"Oh. Ohhhhh, I see now," Dong-sik grimaced sympathetically, shifting his gaze to the glass and plastic fragments on the ground. "You got dumped. They smashed your phone. That's rough."

"That's not..."

"Do you need someone to take you home?"

In-woo was stunned by the question (and by the fact that Dong-sik interrupted him so brazenly), and did not respond. Dong-sik slung down his briefcase to carry it normally, and carefully laid his other hand on In-woo's shoulder, squishing into the shoulder pad of his suit.

"Let's go. Tell me your address."

___

The next several minutes were very strange indeed. They slowly walked away from the Daehan parking lot, getting closer and closer to the sound of cars and people on the main avenue. In-woo normally would never allow someone to lead him around with a hand on his shoulder, but this was different. Dong-sik was different.

"The bus will be here in a moment."

"The bus...?" In-woo had expected that Dong-sik would call for a substitute driver, or something like that. In-woo had never set foot on a public bus before. He tried to imagine what it might smell like on the inside, and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He tried to shoot Dong-sik a pleading look, but the man was already digging through a worn-down leather wallet for his bus pass. And then the monstrous vehicle arrived, screeching to a stop.

“You can pay me back later,” Dong-sik murmured into In-woo’s ear, as he used his own bus pass to bring both of them past the pay station. In-woo couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Strangely, the bus was almost empty. They walked to the back of the bus and sat side-by-side, and In-woo felt grateful for the strong, pleasant scent of Dong-sik's hair. Dong-sik must have noticed him leaning into the smell, because he pulled In-woo closer with an arm behind his back, until In-woo's cheek rested against Dong-sik's shoulder. The rumbling sound of the bus's engine was surprisingly pleasant, and some of the overhead light bulbs had burned out, leaving the back section in shadow. Naturally, In-woo closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a wip and unbetaed, so i invite constructive criticism. Comment here or contact me on twitter @kokorogoboki


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